


such stuff as dreams are made on

by outofthesun



Series: tempest [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Dimiclaude Wild Weekend (Fire Emblem), Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Sub!Dimitri, dom!claude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofthesun/pseuds/outofthesun
Summary: There’s one thing Dimitri can now say with some confidence about Claude: he’sverygood at tying people up.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: tempest [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941625
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69
Collections: Dimiclaude Wild Weekend





	such stuff as dreams are made on

**Author's Note:**

> A combined day 2/day 3 Dimiclaude Wild Weekend offering, hitting a smorgasbord of prompts including dom/sub, restraint, mouth and teeth, with a side of aftercare and praise kink! A sequel to "all the devils are here", but can be read on its own if that's your bag.

There’s one thing Dimitri can now say with some confidence about Claude: he’s _very_ good at tying people up.

The harness stretches across his chest and into a series of complex loops behind his back, and his torso and arms are almost completely immobilised. The sensation of the rope against his bare skin, combined with the plug he’s still stuffed with and the ring around his cock, is enough to make him desperate and wanting even though Claude’s barely touched him, has barely even given Dimitri any orders except to strip and to stay still.

Claude himself is still fully clothed, sitting on the bed whilst Dimitri kneels at his feet, pliant and waiting. The weight of callused fingers in his hair is _heaven_ , and if not for how wound up he is Dimitri is sure he’d be quite happy to stay like this indefinitely, naked and bound at Claude’s mercy - but eventually a whine spills from his lips and Claude chuckles, low and indulgent.

“So needy,” he murmurs, twisting his hand and pulling sharply at Dimitri’s hair, drawing out a moan. “So _impatient_.” Dimitri lets out a whimper in protest, but Claude just laughs again. “That’s okay. We can train that out of you.” He guides Dimitri up onto the large bed, putting him on his back and straddling his hips with a grin.

Claude makes it look, and sound, so _easy_. Dimitri remembers his first tentative encounters on the scene, with - with his old Dom, and at first they’d been tentative and unsure - but Claude wields power over him almost effortlessly. 

Claude snaps his fingers, expression lightly chastising.

“Focus on me.” 

“I-I’m sorry, Claude.”

Claude doesn’t reply - instead he just twists at one of Dimitri’s nipples, pale and exposed against the blue of the rope, and Dimitri finds himself short of breath - not for the first time that night, and, he suspects, not for the last time either.

Claude torments his tits almost lazily, worrying at them each in turn with his teeth and fingers until they’re both pink and hyper-sensitive from the stimulation. Dimitri can’t do anything but _take_ it, writhing against his restraints until Claude finally stills him with a hand pressing at his hips, reaching into his pocket again.

 _Are his pockets bottomless?_ Dimitri finds himself wondering, but is quickly distracted by the pair of nipple clamps Claude is holding up, eyes mischievous. 

“Something to keep your mind from wandering.”

The clamps are beautifully intricate in their design but no less mean for it, linked by a silver chain and each with a weight on the end to ensure a steady pressure. Claude doesn’t give him any time to brace for it - he attaches both in a matter of seconds, leaving Dimitri gasping and flushed from the pressure on the already sensitive skin. Claude sits back on his haunches and just _watches_ him for a long moment, smug and satisfied and completely, utterly, in control.

He nips and bites down Dimitri’s neck, sucking a mark into the join of his neck and shoulder until it’s bruising and tingling and certain to be there in the morning.

“Don’t move,” Claude murmurs, voice laced with command. “Unless you want the consequences, that is.”

Dimitri goes motionless at the order, tries to focus his mind on staying that way as Claude starts to touch him again, trailing up his bound arms and down his chest, almost like he’s mapping out Dimitri’s body for his own reference. It’s undeniably arousing, and he wants to do the same to Claude - to feel his way along his tanned arms, his chest, his everything - but not only is Dimitri bound, Claude is also still fully clothed, only reinforcing exactly who’s got the power in this situation.

Not that that isn’t already blindingly obvious.

He inches downwards ever-so-slowly, teasing, every now and then glancing up at Dimitri and smirking devilishly. His touches get closer and more intense, pinching and biting included, and Dimitri gets more and more wound up - he suddenly realises how heavy his breathing is, how desperately he wants to be able to reach out and _touch_.

Claude, without warning, suddenly strokes expertly at Dimitri’s cock, straining against its ring, and for a split second Dimitri cants his hips into the sensation - and his dominant pulls away.

“ _Dimitri_.” he says, and Dimitri’s heart jumps. “What did I say?”

“N-Not to move.” he replies hoarsely.

“That’s right.” Claude looks almost thoughtful for a moment, but then grins, a mean thing that only makes Dimitri even more aroused. “I’ll have to punish you for that one.” Dimitri can’t stifle his instinctive whimpers, somehow both anxious and desperate for it at the same time, but Claude shushes him, a gentle hand in his hair - reassurance. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, like he’s telling Dimitri a secret. “You’ll enjoy it.”

He pulls away and there’s nothing for a few seconds - nothing but the clamps, the plug, the cock ring - until the bed dips again and Claude is pulling Dimitri over his lap, settling him just so that his cock is rubbing perfectly against Claude’s thighs.

“Sylvain tells me you’ve got a decent tolerance for pain and a sizable masochistic streak, but since we’ve not played before, I think twenty should do the trick.”

Something warm settles in his stomach - Dimitri’s no stranger to this, and lying exposed over Claude’s lap like this sets off a visceral reaction - and all he can get out is an affirmative moan. 

Claude snickers, and his hand settles on Dimitri’s ass, right over the plug. 

“I’m not the sort to make people count, but make sure you stay put.”

And he brings his hand down, hard, just on the crease between Dimitri’s butt and his thighs.

The strikes go by in a blur, straddling the line of pleasure and pain so deliciously that Dimitri almost doesn’t want it to stop - his ass is burning and his cheeks are wet and _god_ did he need this. Claude’s hand comes down over and over and over without pause; he doesn’t try to drag it out, doesn’t let Dimitri catch his breath. Every single well-aimed smack jars the plug inside him, drives his cock against Claude’s thigh, and by the time the spanking stops, he’s almost senseless from the pleasure of it.

Claude absently traces lines over the soreness as Dimitri pants for breath, scratching and pinching, and strokes his hair - a moment of reprieve. 

Dimitri swallows his pride and turns to look at him - now even _more_ smug - and whispers, quiet and desperate. “More?”

Claude laughs brightly, yanking at the chain and Dimitri moans. “More?”

“ _Please_ , Claude.”

“Ah, you beg so pretty,” Claude croons. “But you’ll have to wait a little longer for any more.”

“But I n-need- “ there’s a smack right on his upper thigh, right on one of the marks, and Dimitri’s back arches instinctively, throat bared in supplication. “Claude - “

“You’re going to wait like a good boy, right? Promise me.”

Dimitri inhales deeply and tries to organise a coherent string of words in his head, but in the end just gets out a barely there “Yes.”

“That’s better. Now, on your knees again - on the cushion.”

Dimitri manages to push himself off of Claude’s lap and wobbles to the floor, legs shaking. It’s not graceful, but Claude doesn’t seem to mind as he finally unbuttons his jeans, pulls his cock out for Dimitri to see. Dimitri’s quivering on his knees with the anticipation of it, trying not to look too impatient.

“Get me hard.” Claude demands, and Dimitri doesn’t need to be told twice - his lips immediately go to circle Claude’s cock, half-hard already and weighty in his mouth. This, too, is familiar, and Dimitri feels a sense of low triumph in his belly when Claude starts to let out the barest sounds of pleasure as he licks and sucks at his shaft.

Dimitri is good at this, has done it many a time, but rarely has it been so satisfying - he feels the edges of his mind starts to blank out, the thoughts in his head consumed with only this single task of pleasing Claude, of making him feel just as good as he’s made Dimitri feel. It’s the feeling of being _used_ that does it - Dimitri has sucked plenty of men off in clubs, in bars, back at his own apartment - but none of those men made Dimitri feel like Claude does - like a thing to take pleasure from, but also like something precious.

“So good, so perfect for me,” Claude croons, and the affection in his voice is enough to make contentment wash over him in waves. “I knew you would be as soon as I saw you by the bar, all flushed and wanting and _gorgeous_.”

He tugs at Dimitri’s hair then, impatient, makes him take the whole of his length at once, and Dimitri gags but just about manages it. 

“Good boy, just like that,” he praises, voice raspy with pleasure. “Take all of it for me.”

Dimitri does, with gusto, and when he licks at Claude’s balls Claude actually groans, low and indulgent, before he’s tugging Dimitri away again.

“Back up on the bed, on all fours,” he says, slightly breathless, and Dimitri tries not to look too smug as he does as instructed, resting on his forearms. His cock, still ringed, hangs heavy in between his legs, and Claude’s fingers dance along it, tantalising. “If I take this off, do you promise to ask me before you come?”

“Y-Yes, Claude, of course, anything.” Claude toys with it for a minute, because _of course_ he does, but eventually he slips it off and Dimitri’s cock hardens almost instantly, free from its restraint once more, eager and impatient. Claude chuckles again, moves back down the bed, settles behind Dimitri’s ass.

“Already ready for me,” he murmurs, pleased, toying with the plug so Dimitri shivers. “Guess forward planning has its advantages, wouldn’t you say, beautiful?”

Dimitri can’t answer - isn’t sure if he’s even supposed to answer - because a split second later Claude drives into him and he lets out what might be the loudest noise of pleasure he’s ever made, pushing back into it. Claude’s got his hands on Dimitri’s hips, nails digging into his skin, and as he gets into a rhythm he only grips more tightly. Dimitri shouts, strains against the ropes, and the bed starts to shake as Claude keeps on pounding into him, quicker and quicker, harder and harder.

After waiting for so long - for _hours_ \- Dimitri can’t help but feel the pleasure quickly escalate, to the point where he’s not even sure what he’s saying - some incoherent mix of begging, of pleading, of _wanting_. Claude spanks him again, erratically this time, and all it does is add to this crescendo of feeling that’s threatening to spill over; Claude must sense it because he grips Dimitri’s hair again, pulls at it, whispers in his ear.

“Ask me for it,” he pants, just as breathless. “Ask me, Dimitri, I’ll make it so good for you - “

“I need it, Claude, _please,_ I want it, I can’t - “

“Do it, come for me, sweet thing, I want you to -”

He’s coming, harder than in so long, all over the sheets and all over the bed, and the pleasure is so intense, so much after being denied all evening that Dimitri whites out. He’s faintly aware of Claude coming, too, all over his ass, but otherwise registers close to nothing, in that space where his body can’t process what’s happening to it anymore. Some part of him vaguely thinks _I’m in subspace_ , but Claude has wiped his brain of all rational thought, of anything other than the floating sensation that has seized complete control over him.

“I meant what I said, you know. You were so good for me.” Claude whispers gently as they lie entwined together, as Dimitri floats. He feeds Dimitri fruit from a bowl that’s appeared from somewhere: strawberries, grapes, little pieces of melon, and slowly, sure enough, Dimitri starts to come back to himself. Claude doesn’t seem to be in any hurry - they’ve got the room for the whole night, after all - and alternates between petting him and humming softly, something lilting and low and unfamiliar. Dimitri doesn’t remember being untied, or the clamps coming off, or being cleaned up, but finds he doesn’t care; the contentment washing over him is more than enough.

“Thank you,” he finds himself saying distantly. “Thank you, Claude, so much.”

“No, thank _you_.” Claude murmurs, cards his hand through Dimitri’s hair in a thoughtless gesture of affection. “I’d say we should talk about it, and we will, in the morning, but for now, I think you should get some sleep, sweet thing.”

Dimitri doesn’t feel any sort of inclination to argue with him, and drifts off in Claude’s arms.

***

When Dimitri wakes, there’s a soft hand on his shoulder and the beginnings of sunlight coming in through the slit of a window.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” 

He blinks away sleep from his eyes and sees Claude, still only in his shirt from last night, grinning at him from the middle of the bed, hair sleep-mussed and decidedly less in check than it had been the night prior. 

“Good morning,” he gets out drowsily, feeling out tentatively for any lasting aches or pains. Whilst his ass still throbs, he can’t feel too much else - although, he supposes, that might change once he leaves the comfy, warm cocoon of sheets he seems to be entangled in.

“Morning.” Claude smiles, warm and easy, and through his semi-wakeful state Dimitri can’t help but feel pleased. “I would have let you sleep in, but too much longer and Yuri will have my hide.” he pauses, holds out a mug. “Managed to get hold of some coffee, though.”

Groaning, Dimitri rolls out of bed, clutching at the proffered cup and downing it hastily, hissing as the too-hot liquid hits his throat.

“May I ask you something, Claude?” he questions as he pulls on his shirt, fumbling with the buttons.

“You can always ask. Can’t promise I’ll always answer, but you definitely can always ask.” he smirks, still managing to be mischievous even though the sun’s barely risen.

“Did you just - find my mental scene wish-list? I know you can’t read my mind, but it felt as though you could.” 

Much as expected, Claude snorts. “As much as I might like for that to be the case, no. Sylvain also gave me a few suggestions to top up my initial instincts.” He grins. “Lucky for me, all of them seemed to be pretty on the money.”

Dimitri smiles, blushes as is his habit, and if he didn’t know better he’d go so far as to say that Claude looks charmed by it. “They were certainly on the money. I haven’t had such a good time in - in a long while."

“It was my pleasure. You were lovely, Your Princeliness.” he grins, then looks slightly more tentative, unsure. “Lovely enough that… perhaps, if you’d be interested, we could play next Friday, too?”

Touched, Dimitri puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’d be honoured.”

Claude seems genuinely taken aback at how easily he accepts, then smiles - not a grin or a smirk, but a small, pleased little thing that sends butterflies instantly racing through Dimitri’s stomach. 

“Good. I went easy on you, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you've enjoyed the mini-series! Comments are treasured.
> 
> You can find me on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/_outofthesun_) (please come and yell at me about Dimiclaude, the fabulous wild weekend has only enhanced my love for them).


End file.
